


You're Witch Craft

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Drinking, Early season 3, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Oswald has tattoos like in John Wick 3, Trans Male Character, season three setting, self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: It feels like a dream to have him so easily, to earn the love and affection of the man he's been pining after for the past few months. If it is a dream he truly does not want to wake up from it.





	You're Witch Craft

“You have witchcraft in your lips.” He whispers hotly against his lips.

Oswald places a hand against his chest, gently pushes him back against the couch, he breaks out laughing, Ed follows suit his face flushing red. 

“And you are completely wasted.” He retorts as he moves to settle himself on his partner’s lap. 

Ed’s hands settle on his thighs, fingers stroking against he material of his black dress pants. He focuses the best he can on the man sitting atop him, smiles to himself as he admires the neck tattoos that cover his neck, the wings that move as he swallows. He runs his hands slowly up his thighs, watches as his partner bites and sucks against one of his lip rings, green eyes locked on him. 

“Wasted yes, I admit….But we are celebrating.” 

Oswald smiles, he leans down kissing him slowly, teases the tip of his tongue along his full bottom lip before breaking away again. “I get to be mayor, I now fully own a night club, and I get you. Those are all cause to celebrate.” He agrees.

Ed’s hands travel to his ass, Oswald blushes his eyes closing for a moment as he feels his newfound partner give him a squeeze. He can’t help that there’s heat pooling between his legs and for the past few months during their initial conversations at Arkham then their long nights sipping wine and discussing campaign tactics he’d been fantasizing about him like this. Now that it’s reality it’s perfect, but there’s booze on his breath and Ed’s giggly. He kisses him once more intending it to be short and sweet until Ed deepens it, bites and sucks against his bottom lip. 

Oswald groans as he pulls back, he reaches behind him to grab Ed’s wrists and pull them away from his backside. Ed pouts out his bottom lip on the verge of pouting. Oswald gets up from the couch tugging at his wrists until the other man takes the hint and awkwardly gets to his feet stumbling and nearly falling against him. Oswald wraps an arm around his waist doing his best to support as much of his weight as he can.

“Tomorrow we can talk and tomorrow night perhaps we can pick up what we started on the couch.” He says partially to himself.

Ed simply hums probably not even listening to a word he’s said. Oswald winces at the pain in his leg as he makes his way up the steps with Ed leaning against his side hardly putting any effort into walking himself, he suddenly wonders if he’s this bad when he’s drunk, he’s heard he’s worse than this.

Halfway to his bedroom he considers just dumping Ed onto the floor but finds that to be harsh, he wriggles out of his awkward drunken embrace long enough to open the bedroom door and lead him inside. He leads him to the bed dropping him there, Ed flops back onto the mattress and laughs at nothing in particular. 

Oswald gets to work on removing his shoes then helping him get out of his suit jacket, tie, waist coat, and eventually his pants. He thinks about their night, tries to recount how many drinks Ed had had, how many drinks they both had had before the confessions came to surface. He knows for himself he’d only been three glasses of red wine in, Ed had been sharp and sober, quiet and almost terrified looking when the words ‘I love you’ had fallen from Oswald’s lips in a rush of anxiety. Even now he wants to scold himself for just rambling like a schoolboy, he’d rehearsed a hundred times over in his room, in the car, and in the bathroom about just how he’d tell him. He hadn’t planned it to be after he won the campaign, not at the after party, but he couldn’t help himself.

Love couldn’t be planned, he sure as Hell hadn’t planned on falling in love with Edward. It had just…. happened, slowly, a love that grew organically and for the first time since his mom and dad were murdered, he felt happy, like he genuinely wanted to be alive. 

He undresses himself until he’s only in his tank top and boxers, Ed’s already huddled under the comforter, Oswald’s happy to join him. He thinks of the few nights they had shared a bed in Ed’s apartment, after so long he’d felt rather guilty for hogging the man’s bed, after all he’d saved his life and forcing him to sleep on a sofa in his own apartment had been ridiculous. To do this now felt like second nature, but different in a sense. 

Ed was curled up against him in a heartbeat, face buried against his neck, his lips tracing the inked wings on his neck. Oswald closes his eyes; he gently pets his fingers through Ed’s hair and sighs. 

“Did they hurt?” Ed asks.

“Not as bad as getting shot, but close.” He confesses. 

His tattoos had been a yearly ritual starting at age seventeen, each year he got a new one as if to mark a new start to a new leg of his life. There are tattoos he doesn’t love too much, ones that now feel juvenile, but he’d never cover them up or black them out, they mark who he’s been. 

Ed resumes his task of kissing along the wings on his neck, his lips are slightly chapped but still rather soft, his skin is warm, he’s warm and gentle. He’s safe, he knows just how insane it is to feel this safe and to be this vulnerable with somebody, but he can’t help it. He knows if he can’t be open with him, allow Ed into his home, his bed, his heart then why open up this way to anybody?

“I love you.” He whispers still feeling so scared that the sentiment just can’t be returned, that his parents were the only people who could ever love him.

Ed nuzzles against him, “I love you too” He says, and he sounds sure of it even in his drunken state.

Ed never says things he doesn’t mean, not to Oswald.


End file.
